Nobody will send flowers. You don’t even have a face to conjure when you think of this child. By Maggie Downs
For what seems like a single frame of the video, I see my child silhouetted in the lights of the oncoming car. By Ian Smith
I wait for sleep, for the fever to break, the tooth to fall out, the rash to go away.
By Zsofia McMullin
All the years of doing and hoping, praying and sculpting—you wait to see if it worked.
By Lisa Romeo
The swings she used to ride are still moving, but she’s long gone, and I realize it’s only the wind.
By Robin L. Flanigan
I can’t imagine spreading my legs and letting doctors make quick work of this loss.
By Nicole Piasecki
I am shocked still by the parenting moments that break my heart.
By Catherine Newman
Both my children hate being around me and water—I’m the parent whose urgent, borderline hysteria ruins all the fun.
By Christie Tate
What makes this an exceptional book is that it always steers its eye away from self-pity and toward a greater understanding of love and acceptance.
Abigail Rasminsky and Mira Ptacin